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" Isabelle said. "I should have thought of it. If he's well enough to make the trip." She knelt beside a vent in the wall, her brown gown pooling around her feet. She flipped the switch on the vent and a blast of dust came out, followed by a stream of fresh air.

From the look of it, no one had used this cabin in years. It was tiny, meant for crew not passengers, with two bunk beds on the left, a small desk and cubbyhole for clothes on the right. Everything was coated with a thick layer of dust. A single harsh ceiling lamp glared down on the neglect.

The ship ran food and sundries once a month to the mining colonies on Brensil 4 and other settlements on the verge of abandonment. It carried much less cargo than it had been built to hold, and the captain seemed to have compensated for this lost revenue by cutting expenses. Though it was meant to have a larger crew, the captain made do with three. That left one empty cabin in the narrow section rotating about the center of the ship. From the dull, unsteady vibration that ran through the superstructure, Galen judged he also saved money on engine maintenance.

Galen finished making the upper bunk with the clean sheets the captain had given them. "I'll contact Elizar then." He was reluctant to ask Elizar to put aside his convalescence. But if they were somehow tracked to this slow-moving freighter, Tilar, Brown, and the Drakh could easily be on Brensil 4 waiting for them.

They had disguised themselves with hastily bought clothes and wigs. They hadn't wanted to conjure full-body illusions in case the Shadow was monitoring the port. The energy might draw it to them, and it could easily penetrate those disguises.

Isabelle wore a becoming brown gown, Galen an uncomfortable brown turtleneck and pants. The wigs, it turned
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